


I like the way you talk

by Hectatess



Series: Late-night Discord plot-bunnies [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Crack, Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester in Denial, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, but in a fun way. Nothing bad, shipper!Rowena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectatess/pseuds/Hectatess
Summary: When Dean comes home after an impromptu hunt, he is unpleasantly surprised by the development Cas had in his speech.Sam is being unhelpful, and Rowena drops in.Cracky fic.





	I like the way you talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PieDarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieDarling/gifts).



> Late-night Discord Plot-bunnies. Chuck Damnit!  
> This one goes to Pie Darling! You know what you did....  
> My sincere Thanks to MalMuses, for her quick beta work! Thanks sweeting!

“Goddamnit!” Dean sighed, wincing as he ran his hand through his hair and encountered some unidentifiable goo. A splotch of it landed with a wet squelch on the floor of the War room. He glared at it, then took a deep breath. “Hey, guys? I’m back!”  
Not waiting for responses, Dean went to shower to get clean, before heading to the kitchen to clear away the groceries he had gone out to buy. He hadn’t counted on bumping into a case. It had taken him less than an hour to gank the monster, as he had gotten into the habit of carrying an angel blade when he went out on his own. It wasn’t that they went out, looking for trouble. No. Trouble had a fucking nasty sense of humour and whenever any bunker resident ventured out on their own, it hopped in their path and started making a ruckus.  
  
Feeling clean and with the groceries neatly put away, Dean wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and to forget his afternoon. He dragged his feet as he made his way to the War room with a tumbler of scotch.  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas greeted him in his usual manner.  
Sam shot him a wink.  
“Took you a while,” his little brother teased. “Were they out of bacon?’  
Narrowing his eyes, Dean stepped forward, but a hand to his chest held him back.  
“Dean,” Cas rumbled in his deep, gravelly voice. “You should, like, be careful to not step in that goo. It seems kinda eldritch.”  
Both Sam and Dean had their eyebrows halfway up their hairline. That had sounded… off.  
“What goo, Cas?’ Dean asked carefully. Cas just pointed down. The glob of exploded monster that Dean had forgotten to clean up was gleaming innocently in the yellowish light.  
Grabbing a tissue, Dean went to rectify that. “It’s nothing. Just a bit of Gowrow gut.”  
Sam sat up, worried. “Gowrow? I thought you went to Kaw City, Oklahoma, not Arkansas!” Dumping the filthy tissue in the trash, Dean shrugged. “Guess they migrate. Kaw is surrounded by a lake on three sides.”  
Sam nodded and pulled up his trusty laptop. “I’ll enter it in the database, and we’ll look into that later. For now, let’s get some sleep.”  
Dean downed his booze and heartily agreed.  
  
They’d spent the next day in a calm, relaxed way. Sam researching, Dean tuning Baby, and Cas doing... whatever Cas did on down time. Dean was humming as he finished up the polishing job on his Baby, when Cas walked in.  
“Heya, Cas,” Dean greeted jovially, ignoring the little happy jump his heart had given at the sight of his angel. “What’s up?”  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas gave his usual greeting, but then: “Sam, like, requested your presence in the War room.”  
With that the angel turned and walked off, leaving a confused Dean behind.  
The tails of the tan trenchcoat disappeared from view before Dean caught himself and followed.  
Sam was staring at Cas with wide eyes as Dean entered the room. Dean knew Cas could be distracting, Hell, how often did he himself have to bluff his way through a conversation just because his mind got stuck on those pink lips, or those deep, blue eyes that had seen the world grow up, or that damned, ruffled hair that seemed so soft. Cursing his inner self for getting distracted once again, Dean cleared his throat.  
“What’re we looking at then?” he gruffly asked. Sam just kept staring.  
  
Cas did his cute ( _shut up brain!_ ) head tilt and briefly frowned at Sam. Sam blinked, mouth working but no sound coming out.  
With a shrug, Cas turned to Dean and answered.  
“Dean, like, you know how Sam found this case, in like rural Wisconsin? I kinda think it might be sorta wendigo related, you know?”  
Dean shuddered. It was his angel’s gravelly voice and it damn sure looked like Cas, but at that sentence, his whole being screeched in protest.  
Sam finally shut his mouth, only to snort-laugh behind his fist.  
Dean gulped and Sam snorted again.  
“Cas?! What the Hell happened to _you_?” Dean finally managed to get out.  
Blinking innocently, Cas tilted his head again. ( _Not cute, brain! Shut the fuck up!_ )  
“Since you,” Cas started and Dean mentally geared up for what was to follow, “like, often tell me my speech-pattern is, like, totally weird, I kinda thought it would be best to, like, remedy that.”  
  
Dean’s ears tried to tell his brain that, yes that was exactly what Cas said and how he said it, but his brain was in full denial.  
In the background, Sam had gone from poorly concealed snorts to unabashed chuckles.  
“What?!” Dean cried out. “What did you _do_?”  
Unfazed, Cas sat down. “I watched some series to, like, improve my modern idiom. It kinda sucked to totally be the weird one every time.”  
Feeling like his brain was trying to shut down his entire aural system, Dean fought down tears of desperation. This wasn’t Cas. This wasn’t how his angel was supposed to sound.  
“What series?” he demanded to know, sinking in another chair. “For the love of Chuck, what series?”  
Sam managed to get himself back together long enough to repeat the question. “What series, Cas? I thought we’d filtered your Netflix after the ‘Orange is the New Black’ debacle.”  
“Well.” Cas hummed, and Dean cringed on forehand. “I, like, found this DVD series, Gossip Girl.”  
Dean wanted nothing more than to not hear the rest, but he wasn’t spared, as Cas cheerily continued.  
“Well, I kinda thought it would be, like, helpful, to get sorta accustomed to using, like, more kinda human idiom.”  
  
Dry sobs of sheer despair wracked Dean by now, while Sam had dissolved into hearty guffaws. “Turn it off!” Dean wailed. “For the love of creation! Turn it off!”  
The sounds of Sam’s merriment ceased for a bit, but only to have the yeti ruin Dean’s intent by all but howling the next sentence. “No! Don’t! It’s _hilarious_!” Sam managed before starting to laugh uncontrollably.  
Cas did his head-tilt at Sam. "Like, why do you find this funny?"  
In his mirth, Sam started honking like a Canadian Goose. “It... it’s just amahahahaziiiing!” he gasped around his laughter.  
Dean, on the other hand reverted to an old, childhood tick, and was biting his wrist in agony.  
“Just make it stop... pleeeeaaassssee...” he moaned.  
Confusion seeping out of his very pores, Cas looked from one Winchester to the other. “Like, was it wrong for me to sorta learn from tv?” he asked, sounding like a lost five-year-old from the Valley. “I kinda thought it would be a good way to be kinda less conspicuous.”  
By now, Dean was legitimately crying.  
“Oh Chuck!” he begged “Give me back my socially awkward boyfriend. I’d sell my soul again...”  
  
oooOooo  
  
Cut to Chuck, sitting comfortably at his bar somewhere, watching the whole thing live, on a dingy TV above the counter.  
He heard the plea echoing in his mind as the prayer it really was, and wiped his eyes.  
“No way, Dean. This is comedy gold!” he chuckled and poured himself another drink.  
Amara just nodded at the TV. “So that’s why he didn’t react like I thought he would. Profound _er_ bond.”  
Chuck shrugged and slid her a garishly coloured cocktail with a wedge of pineapple and a pink umbrella. “Sorry, sis.”  
  
oooOooo  
  
At Dean’s plea, Sam had shot up, all laughter gone, and Cas had swirled around like a weathervane in a storm to watch Dean. “Boyfriend?!” they both yelled, and Dean wanted to curl up and disappear. At least Cas hadn’t said ‘like’ again.  
He gulped and decided what the Hell, not like he could take it back.  
“Yeah... uhm... I... sorta.... kinda..” Oh Hell! Now _he_ sounded like a Valley girl. He cleared his throat. “I have feelings for you, Cas. For a long time. Like, really strong, ‘I want to hold your hand and kiss you’ sort of feelings.” He was proud of that one. No ‘wanna’ no ‘sorta’. Full words. “And in my mind I’ve been calling you my angel, and my boyfriend, for a while now. I... I love you.” He tentatively glanced around.  
Sam looked like the weight of the world had fallen off his shoulders, but the most important was Cas. What would he do? Would he be disgusted, would he run and never come back?  
  
Dean dropped his gaze. He couldn’t look at his angel, afraid of what he would see, until Cas crooked a finger under his chin and forced him to look up.  
The soft look in those cerulean eyes nearly killed Dean there and then.  
“Dean...” Cas all but purred. “I know.”  
Dean’s brain went on strike.  
“What? Did you just...” He looked at his brother, who was unhelpfully starting his Canadian goose imitation again. “Sam, shut up!” Dean snarled before looking back at Cas. “Did you just Han Solo me?”  
Cas simply smiled and Dean snapped. He grabbed that damned trenchcoat by the lapels and furiously kissed Cas on the lips. Cas stiffened for half a second, but then, oh glory be, he kissed back with just as much passion.  
  
A loud applause rang through the room, accompanied by the distinct sound of high-heels on concrete.  
“Ach! Finally th’ two have found the way.”  
If he hadn’t been preoccupied with kissing Cas breathless, which shouldn’t be possible since he was an angel, Dean would have drawn his gun.  
“Rowena!?” Sam called, obviously surprised enough to stop his goose imitation. “What the Hell?”  
“Hello, boys!” the witch calmly answered. “Ahm glad you’ve come home earlier than I’d expected, Dean. As fun as it was, watching ye squirm at the way our tweetybird spoke, staying here in astral protection for longer would’ve drained me too much.”  
That finally had Dean let go of Cas’ mouth, but he spun the angel around so he could keep him in his arms whilst confronting their weirdest ally.  
“What?” he demanded. “Why were you here, in astral form, in the first place?”  
Cas dropped his head. “I might have forgotten to mention that,” he rumbled low.  
  
oooOooo  
  
**Cas was bothered by something Dean had said. Admittedly, it had been delivered with a wink and a smile, but he was right.  
“You always sound like you swallowed a thesaurus, Cas.” And he did. He knew Jimmy wasn’t the most street-smart guy, but his way with words wasn’t nearly as formal as Cas’. Yet Cas was loath to use Jimmy’s speech-pattern. It would hurt Claire if he did.  
Then he’d stumbled on the DVD series. The people on the front looked a bit high class, but Cas thought he could try it and see if he could pick up modern idiom from it.  
He was half way through the first season, when a low chuckle caught his attention.  
Sauntering towards him, resplendent in velvety robes of indigo, was Rowena.  
“Hello, tweetybird,” she cooed. “Where’s yer strong, handsome hunter then?”  
Cas frowned. “Dean is not mine, Rowena. But he is out getting some groceries. Why?”  
Rowena put her hand to her chest. “Ach, poor, wee Birdy. Has he still not told ye aboot his heart?”  
  
Irritated by her riddles and innuendo, Cas started to turn away. “Dinnea turn awa’ from me, angel,” Rowena plead. “I wasnae bein’ vague to annoy ye. Please.”  
With a sigh, Cas turned back. “Your intentions are unrelated to your actions, Rowena. You don’t intend to annoy, yet you do. Now, will you leave, so I can watch this? I am trying to learn modern language and speech-patterns.”  
Intrigued, Rowena got closer and picked up the DVD box. “From this? Are ye mockin’ me?”  
With a sneer, Cas grabbed the box back. “I do not mock. It is unbecoming and unnecessary. I’m hoping to get a speech-pattern that is less old-fashioned. Dea... people have commented on it.”  
Rowena cackled and threw out a hand at him, calling out a sentence in a weird jumble of English and Scottish Gaelic, but Cas’ internal translator flawlessly made it into something he understood.  
"May the fish talk like a valley girl." He didn’t understand what she was talking about, but a shiver ran up his spine and his throat itched. He coughed to get rid of it.  
“Leave, Rowena, like, now.” Huh, imagine that. He was getting the hang of this modern talking.**  
  
oooOooo  
  
Dean rolled his eyes at Cas. “Honestly? You _forgot_ that the world’s most powerful witch was here?”  
Cas squinted at him. “Yes. Which is odd on its own, since an angel does not forget. Usually.”  
“Weeell,” Rowena chimed in. “That could have been my doin’ too.” She smiled radiantly. “Where’s the fun in messing with you lot, if the tweetybird can turn stool-pigeon?” She clapped her elegant hands together and gave them a saucy wink. “And now the situation has been resolved, we can all go our merry way.”  
Dean shot up, grabbing her by the wrist. “Wait, what situation?”  
She blinked down at his hand on her indigo sleeve. “Let go, buffoon, or I will hex those fingers off.”  
Dean winced but held on. “No. You’ll poof off and we’ll be stuck with the questions. What situation?”  
  
She blinked her purple shaded eyes at him. “Ballsy, but ok. The terrible UST between you and the angel. I swear, if I hadn’t intervened, you’d still be denyin’ until you were blue in th’ face. If you don’t mind me sayin’, ye were acting like a wee bairn fibbin’ aboot who broke Mommy’s vase. And you,” she spat at Cas. “You could bring down the very stars with yer self-depreciation. He does love ye, and you are worth it. Ye both did stupid things and ye both solved a lot of world threatening issues. Ye’re on an even footin’! Accept it.”  
Sheepishly glancing at Cas, Dean rubbed his neck. “The lady has a point, Cas. I do...Y’know... that. Have for... for a long time. So... Yeah.”  
Sam groaned and he rolled his sunflower eyes up so far, Dean thought he could be checking the roots of his glorious mane. Rowena glanced up at him and sighed.  
“Eloquent, ye clout. Now let go, or loose the fingers.” Dean let go as if he got burned. Rowena smiled warmly. “I promise the spell is broken now you’ve called him yer boyfriend. Ye just had to admit your feelin’s fer the fish. Tata, boys!” She waved and in a swish of expensive velvet, she was gone.  
“Witches...” Dean sighed.  
Sam scoffed. “At least you can stop being Dean-anch-amon, King of Denial. I am going on that wendigo case. Alone. You two talk and such, and I will announce my return way up front.” He stood and grabbed his emergency duffle. “Cas,” he grinned with twinkling eyes. “You’re a great brother.... in-law. Bye!” He ran, taking the metal stairs two at a time.  
Dean chuckled, and hung his head.  
“Cas,” he sighed, as the angel turned around. “I know I said this before, but… don’t ever change. I like you, and I like the way you talk. You’re perfect as you are.”  
Cas just kissed him again.


End file.
